


Please Don't Make Me Go

by WearingWellies



Series: Prompt Challenges [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Feels of sorts, Flangst?, Lots of Weasleys, M/M, Mentions of Christmas morning food porn, Non-explicitly hints at sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WearingWellies/pseuds/WearingWellies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is dreading his first Christmas at The Burrow with the Weasleys, but does he need to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Make Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick fic that was my contribution to a prompt challenge with a friend to get her back into writing with the prompt being "Christmas jumper". I've exceeded the 500 word limit we set ourselves by a smidge :/
> 
> Not beta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: JK Rowling’s, not mine *sigh*

Draco tucked his face into Harry’s neck and groaned. “Please don’t make me go to the Weasley’s tomorrow. Please.”

Whilst his voice was muffled by Harry’s skin, Harry heard him loud and clear. With a sigh and a chuckle, Harry twisted to kiss Draco’s temple. “Don’t be silly. They wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t welcome.”

Draco pulled his face from its resting place, and propped his head up on his hand to look at Harry. A fleeting smile quirked at Harry’s lips at the stern look on his lover’s face. “You know I was only invited because you’re family and you happen to be rather fond of me. It’s not because they actually want me there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco. I don’t even like you, so I have no idea where you got the notion I was rather fond of you.” Harry replied deadpan, sweeping Draco’s slightly sweat-damp hair away from his forehead.

Draco scowled, and yanked sharply on the sparse hair between Harry’s nipples, causing Harry to wince. Schooling his face back to one of cool indifference, Draco commented, “You’ve got cum on your earlobe.” And he lay down, turning his back to Harry.

“I love you too, you weirdo.” Harry said affectionately, wiping at his ear and grimacing at the cold glob of semen he quickly wiped on the sheet, then he pulled Draco back against him. “And you’re coming to The Burrow.” Harry nuzzled his nose behind Draco’s ear.

Draco sighed almost inaudibly as he linked his fingers with Harry’s on his abdomen. “I hate you.”

“I know.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s shoulder as he closed his eyes.

*

Even a Christmas morning consisting of Harry’s deliciously cooked breakfast of Eggs Royale with dill hollandaise and wilted spinach, plus the sweet, thoughtful (and also slightly naughty) Christmas gifts they exchanged in the warm, loving cocoon of their cottage wasn’t enough to untwist the knot of dread tightly coiled around Draco’s intestines.

Despite multiple assurances from Harry that Draco _was_ indeed welcome at The Burrow, Draco couldn’t bring himself to believe him entirely. He knew that their shared, tumultuous history was not something one could easily forgive or forget, even with Gryffindor valour and chivalry staining the very core of every single member of the Weasley family.

His fears did indeed seem baseless as he was welcomed warmly into the tospy-turvy house. The Weasleys were everything he had imagined they’d be when together at home – loud, boisterous, and very ginger – and despite finding it all very overwhelming, he felt infinitely more comfortable than he had expected.

After eating Molly’s amazing food, Draco’s unease began to reappear as they moved to the sitting room to exchange presents. Although Draco had shopped with Harry, and the majority of the gifts were from them both, he felt like he was intruding on private family time, especially as the family began unwrapping the famous Molly-knitted jumpers he had heard Harry raving about on the lead-up to Christmas.

He was most surprised when Arthur handed him a gorgeously wrapped gift with a warm and expectant smile. Draco unwrapped the squishy present, trying his hardest to ignore the encouraging look on Molly’s face. Inside was a neatly folded bundle of soft, royal blue, knitwear. His chest clenched as he unfolded the jumper, revealing a pale champagne-coloured ‘D’ on the chest. Forgetting himself for a minute or two, he was pulled from his reverie by Harry’s hand on his thigh. He looked up at Harry, then to Molly and Arthur, and tried to find the words to express his feelings. He knew that not just anyone got a jumper from Molly, and that Fleur didn’t get one until _after_ she had married Bill.

“I, erm –” Draco began, then cleared his throat. “Thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

Molly beamed. “You’re so welcome, Draco.” She stood up and pulled Draco out of his chair and into a massive, if slightly awkward due to their height difference, hug.

*

Draco collapsed elegantly onto the sofa, feeling slightly tipsy, perfectly sated, toasty warm, and strangely, contentedly, accepted. He absently traced the knitted letter on his chest and was jostled lightly when Harry sat down next to him.

“I told you Molly and Arthur wanted you there.” Harry yawned, his hand linking with Draco’s atop his wool-covered chest.

Draco sighed contentedly and squeezed Harry’s fingers. “Remember that when we’re at my Mother’s tomorrow.” 

A sly smile spread across Draco’s face as he felt Harry freeze against him.


End file.
